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12 April 2014 @ 12:02 pm
to live while you're young  
The call of the killdeer wakes something up, it is the recklessness of spring, the wish to have my tiny heart beating inside the tiny breast of that fearless bird.

It is a rainy day in Milwaukee, a hypnotic sort of spring time rain, and I am indelibly happy. I recognize this as a caffeine-fuelled joy. Cardamom should always be in coffee.

Last night I played pick-up sticks with two friends, and we got very serious about it. It reminded me of when I first got the set, and would play with Morris folks on the wooden floor of the duplex. I wanted to tell my dad that I'm still using and loving that Christmas gift.
Funny how similar and different life is now from those times I'm recalling. I miss those folks dreadfully, and wonder if I'll always be surrounded by these plaid-clad, goofy smart people who are perfectly willing to play pick up sticks for an hour.

Last night my two housemates - one of whom I've known for a year, and one of whom I've only known for a few months - and another friend (who I've known for 2 years now, but only gotten close to since last summer) drank beer, and cooked a big Indian feast (vegetable korma, garbanzo flatbread, mango frozen yogurt), toasted our jelly jars of red wine to spring break and to being together. We all expressed that cooking food with friends is one of our favorite things, and said how glad we were to be doing it with each other. No need to wonder where this joy comes from.